


Behind Closed Doors

by daddykink (halogenharry)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Angel! Zayn, Demon! Harry, Established Relationship, Fluff, Love Bites, M/M, Secret Relationship, Sleepy Kisses, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-23 05:07:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4864241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halogenharry/pseuds/daddykink





	Behind Closed Doors

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thezaynlife](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thezaynlife/gifts).



Just beyond the reach of the mortals lies the world of angels, demons, gods and other various magical beings. They walk the Earth beside the living, but cannot usually be seen except in very special circumstances, such the few days a year they can live among the mortal. Due this fact, they often see themselves as much more than they are - mere demons or angels who do the work of their god or various gods.  

They have free reign over the Earth, can cause hurricanes and save those in trouble. Their beauty is beyond the comprehension of mere Earthly beings, which made the demons’ jobs all that much easier.

But their true natures are unknown to humankind. Despite knowing of their existence, humans have never been able to pinpoint the true nature of angels. Demons have been moderately well-done and are quite easy to portray due to their straightforward way of acting. But everything is different when it comes to angels. Angels are seen as supposedly being kind, warm, supreme beings whose lives are dedicated to making the world a better place for humans to live. However, as do all beings, angels vary in personality, motive, and kindness. Of course, they’re all there to better the world and they do that on a daily basis, but some, despite being better than demons, don’t really care. They saw their work of saving the world as only that - work. It was their nine to five job (some of them really did get off work at five) and that’s all there was to it. And then, beyond the first two groups, was the group that was somewhere in between. Within that group was one particular angel named Zayn who could easily play either side of the same coin.

Much of the time the demons and angels stayed out of each other’s way, seeing as without the other neither would need to exist and they didn’t need the possibility of them all being out of jobs. Others, however, often chose to pick fights with their opposites.

Harry stood over the vast city as the sun rose in the east and illuminated the clouds in stunning ways that still left Harry amazed. There wasn’t much in this world that truly amazed him, but the simple things that occurred in nature were up there on the list. The sleeping city was currently in mid-yawn as the early risers started to leave their dens. Harry loved this time of day with the wind blowing through his curls, the sun kissing his skin and all the prospective mischief he was going to perform was just over the horizon. And just beyond the church steeple he could make out a very familiar figure in the distance - Zayn.

Zayn was opposite Harry, an angel, but his looks truly were deceiving. The sharpness of his facial structure, the glint of light behind his eyes and the allure to his voice were all distinctly traits of demons while the traits Harry had (dimpled smile, soft hair and an excessive love of button downs) were generally angel traits. Zayn even went as far as to wear nearly all black every day, combat boots, leather jackets and his dog was a Boxer. Harry, on the other hand, liked tight fitting jeans, boots and had a teacup Persian cat.

Not that it bothered him or anything.

Harry was a damn good demon and he knew it as did the rest of the demons. The angels avoided him at all costs and he liked it that way. That fear he instilled in them only added to his power and if there was one thing Harry loved, it was power. Power gave him strength, it made him tingle with joy, it gave a reason to keep advancing. He very honestly would take power any way he could get it - during work, during sex, during his day-to-day interactions.

It wasn’t long before Harry realized that Zayn, who had felt the intense stare aimed at his back, was standing on the ledge right next to him. “Lovely morning, isn’t it?” Zayn mused, startling Harry right out of his thoughts. “The sun is shining, the birds are chirping and once again I’ve found you giving me dirty looks from the edge of an office building. Am I in for an especially productive day?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I give you a productive day every day.”

Zayn shrugged so nonchalantly as if everything Harry did was child’s play which really pissed him off. The treatment he got from angels other than Zayn and lesser demons got Harry going; he loved the reputation he had with the whole community, but Zayn was the only one he had no effect on. Zayn’s indifference often made Harry make his deeds even worse than originally intended. Maybe it was out of anger or maybe it was out of some deep need to spite him. Internally, Harry knew he slightly wanted to impress Zayn. Not that he would ever receive any praise from him, but once, just once, Harry wanted Zayn to stand beside his wreckage and be in shock of what he had done. He wanted Zayn to get mad about what he had done. He wanted to completely destroy Zayn’s usual demeanor.

“Thinking through your plans for the day,” Zayn asked, surprisingly close to Harry’s ear.

Harry, once he had regained his bearing, countered, “Doesn’t it ever get boring following me around and fixing my deeds?”

Zayn only smiled because he knew Harry knew the answer. Of course it didn’t get boring; this was his job after all so he really had no choice whether or not he did it and despite the fear Harry brought angels, every angel would do anything to have an assignment as exciting as him (as long as it wasn’t actually him).

“Listen, Bambi, you could at least respond.”

Zayn snorted. “Bambi? You realize people call me that as a compliment, right?” Zayn paused. “Have you been listening in on my conversations, Harry? Stalking me a bit? Eavesdropping?”

A blush spread across Harry’s cheeks, answering his question. Harry hadn’t purposely eavesdropped on Zayn, each time had just happened. Harry’s timing had always been perfectly timed to catch Zayn talking to someone. In actuality, there probably wasn't a single conversation Zayn has had that Harry didn’t know about.  

Before Zayn could embarrass him further, Harry took off for his rounds, with Zayn right behind him. He quickly propelled himself into the air, which made him dizzy, similar to the feeling humans got when they stood up too fast. It took him only a matter of seconds before he had his bearing and he was off.

Zayn, who had exceptional speed while flying, quickly caught back up to Harry and continued his interrogation. “So do you follow me around often? How do you know? How much have you seen? Is my life outside work as interesting as reality television? Or do you secretly enjoy my company?” Zayn did a flip over Harry so they were flying side by side. “Or is it possible that you have feelings for me? Is it a little crush? Love? Wishin’ we could spend every waking moment together, Harry?” Harry’s silence, for Zayn, was funny. It was rare that Harry was either embarrassed or speechless so Zayn basked in it. He poked at his sides, made a few more small comments and even went as far as to blow in his ear lightly. And every time Harry sped up to get away, Zayn caught right up again.

Harry was thankful when they finally reached their first destination. He broke away and lucky for him, Zayn stopped and stayed watched from his post. Harry’s job for the morning was to create an accident of the magnitude of his choosing. Depending on his mood, Harry liked making large-scale, tragic accidents, though he knew he couldn’t do that every day because humans would get too scared to drive and soon there would be know one to force over a cliff.

Barreling down the road was a red Subaru, whose driver was clearly running late, in which the driver was trying to apply her make-up on the way to work. These cases were too easy for Harry, but he didn’t really mind them because of the lack of effort needed on his part. And he used them as his stepping stone for the rest of the day.

As if sent by the gods, a man who was trying to drink his coffee and drive, which even from where Harry was he could tell the top of his cup was barely on, and was struggling to stay straight.

Harry landed on the sidewalk and with a flick of his wrist, caused the woman to swerve and held the man’s car directly inline with hers so they would hit head on. The man’s hot coffee spilled all over him and he screamed as the impact occurred. The woman dropped her mascara brush and screamed before the front end of her car was crushed.

Zayn, as part of his job, watched the accident next to Harry. He was able to save the woman due to the lack of major injuries that had occurred to her, but the man, with his burns and the glasses smushed into his eyes, he was too far for him to help and had to be left for EMS and higher level gods.

“Enjoy the warm-up?” Harry teased.

To his amusement, Zayn yawned, something they both knew would rile him up. “I’ve seen better. Even you know that was too easy for you.”

“Oh, but I’m only getting started.” As the words passed his lips, Harry changed the direction of a car who was trying to get by the wreckage in their panicked ride to work. They plowed into the side of the man’s car, making it nearly impossible for anyone to save at that point. This saddened Zayn as he watched the man’s lifeless body slump against the seat. But for Harry, a day where he caused at least one death before ten was a good day in his book.

Zayn looked solemn, per usual, but there was something else behind his eyes, something Harry had never seen there before and couldn’t read. He wanted to dwell on it, he wanted to get inside his mind and find out what’s wrong, but he knew staying at the scene for too long was never a good idea because he could continue to cause more and more damage.

And demons generally ran tight schedules, except for him, and he was supposed to have been out of there about three minutes and thirteen seconds earlier. And his “I was just making sure everything went correctly” excuse wasn’t going to get him very far anymore. Demons didn’t particularly care if everything was done “correctly” as long as it was done.

****  
  
  
  


The city was finally in the full wake and the sun was high in the sky as Harry and Zayn took to the skies again to head to the next location. Smoke billowed out of factories and trucks honked their horns on their way to their various routes as they filled the city with life. Zayn loved every aspect of the human world with all of their customs and quirks. They were so different from his kind probably because their existence was only finite while his own was infinite. He, and all others in his world, were nearly impossible to kill by most means. All humans means of killing like guns, knives or poison had absolutely no effect on them whatsoever which could be good an bad. It’s good because humans are irrational at times and work too much on impulse but can also be bad because if they’re not focusing on it, they’re skin regenerates immediately and any sign of a previous intrusion is gone. This helps during battles between the factions, but with humans, things like that are enough to put them into therapy.

Zayn knew this from experience from the time he accidentally got into it with a police officer, was shot three times, regenerated his skin and then the officer resigned two weeks later to become a soapbox preacher. It was unfortunate, but there wasn’t much Zayn could have done since he hadn’t stood still enough for him to erase his memory.

Harry, on the other hand, regularly did such things on his mortal days because his one great amusement in life was messing with humans. He had put enough people into therapy to pay for three therapists’ vacation homes and a cottage.

****  
  


Their destination, that Zayn could make out, was a large park in the center of the city. It was a Saturday, if he could recall correctly, so there were kids scattered all over the pavilion. There were children swinging and children on the merry-go-round; children on the teeter-totter and children running around playing tag. The sound of their laughter was magnified as they slowly descended down to a picnic table just off the sandbox. The atmosphere was so peaceful and cheery and, unfortunately, it was Harry’s job to ruin it.

“You’re tormenting kids now, Styles? That’s a new low, even for you.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “We’re not here for the kids, Malik. Who do you think brought these kids to the park?” Harry received a yawn in response so with a huff he answered himself, “Parents, siblings, etc. That’s who we’re here for. They’re my target. Besides, kids really aren’t my thing. They’re so easy it pains me when I have them as my target.”

Harry took a seat upon the tabletop and Zayn followed. “So how do you plan to attack them? Are you going to rally yourself up an army of kids? Attack of the sand monster? Rail ‘em with the monkey bars? Or merry-go-round go wild?”

Harry smirked. His plan was almost too perfect that he didn't want to reveal it, but he knew the amazing feeling he got from reciting it. “There’s a serial killer on the loose in this city and I, being the genius I am, sent him a letter or two to him to tell him I would be delivering a sacrifice to this park. And I always keep my promises.”

Zayn gulped but made sure Harry didn’t see the fear lingering behind his bright eyes. He was hopeful with this one because he knew Harry wasn’t allowed to simply lead people to their deaths unless it was written into the Fates’ contracts. However, the Fates usually only contacted angels and that was the only time they were ever allowed to kill a mortal. But knowing Harry, luck would be on his side and this would be over before it even started.

****  
  
  


Hours went by before Harry noticed a little boy wander into the woods by their edge of the park. He nudged Zayn, who had dozed off, and pointed to what he saw. “Guess I better help his sibling find him, right?” With a snap of his fingers, the sister, who had been texting while laid out on a park bench near them, got up and started the search for her brother. A few minutes after her search began, a bloodcurdling scream broke through the trees, signaling that the search was over and the detective had instead become the victim.

Zayn, who was helpless in these situations generally, sighed. Harry’s way of going about deaths was usually so much more shocking and interesting for him to watch, but today something seemed off. He had caused two deaths so far and one of them he had only led the person to; the other was a very simple car crash that could have happened even without his help. Part of Zayn wanted to bring it up and get to the bottom of these problems while the other part of him, the smarter part of him, felt that asking would cause Harry to stoop to levels he wasn’t allowed to be at and that Zayn wasn’t allowed to stop.  

But everything Harry did was just too easy. He had told him once years earlier that he hated the easy way. That the easy way was for the weak. This was the same demon who had once caused a ten car pile-up and avalanche just for a few laughs. He liked watching skyscrapers crash and destroy sections of cities and typhoons flooding homes out.

****  
  
  


The day continued on just like that, Harry wanting to shock Zayn and failing miserably and Zayn feeling antsy for more. The dynamic between them was almost uncomfortable and tense, far more than usual. The feeling filled the air between them and encapsulated them so far that both wanted to quit early.

Which was exactly what they did.

As long as they made up the time the next day or did all of their deeds at a faster speed, they would be just fine.

****  
  
  


Outside of work, the barriers and separation stayed the same between every duo except Harry and Zayn. In fact, the relationship was nothing less than complicated. They were kind of living together and kind of fucking around and kind of everything to one another. And to be frank, neither knew how to handle the situation. Here they were, business partners and rivals, and at the same time they’re kind of a couple and kind of in love.

Everything between them was a kind of because they felt if things were made defined as official they’d be too into taboo territory to ever return. The territory that has never really been touched by any other pairing in history. There were a few, of course, but the documentation of the exact incidents didn’t exist. So Harry and Zayn stayed in limbo, somewhere in between their real kind of love and the hate they were supposed to possess. And during the day they tried to act like none of this existed: their bedroom was no longer a large room they shared covered in pillows, beanbags, throws, and a king size bed all in the color scheme of white to black and all the shades in between; their boxer, Boris, wasn’t a happy, spry puppy-like adult dog whom they both loved and cherished as if he were their own child; and all the mornings they shared and the meals they cooked and the I love yous they whispered to each other at night were only figments of their imagination.

Off the job they had a beautiful little world of their own and on the job it was nothing more than a fairytale.

The make-up of their relationship clearly bothered both of them, but Harry was the only one to ever verbalize such things. Zayn simply accepted that as work partners and as beings in separate groups that were meant to hate one another, there wasn't much they could do. It wasn’t too painful, after all. They had never had to deny their relationship or consciously hide it in any setting beside when they were working. They haven’t been killed, tortured or separated yet and that is an accomplishment in itself for Zayn. Harry’s nature was to always want more, but he was always quick to calm down in these situations because he knew with Zayn he had the most. He learned from past experiences that he could never be this happy with another of his kind and he wasn’t mad about that. When you’re impulsive, sadistic and snarky, you need someone who can match you, calm you down and have a rational thought when you don’t. And vice versa. Zayn and Harry knew they were meant to be, they had even run it by the Fates (not actively, they had appeared before them one day about one thousand five hundred years earlier to tell them their destiny) who told them that one day soon their hate would develop into lust and that lust would be the driving force to get them where they are now. And only a week later, Harry saw Zayn angry for the first time and the rest of the night was filled with hot breath, broken moans and pure, ethereal pain. They scratched, bit and manhandled each other until finally they passed out from exhaustion. That first night was driven by lust, as they had said, but the underlying passion from their hate made their night even better.

It’s very rare that couples who break the rules of their arrangement can say they had beautiful hate sex because hate sex is just that. It’s primitive, sloppy and fun. You never hate the person any less, but, in some cases, you hate yourself a little bit more. For them, however, their love was awakened that night and from there it was cultivated until they ended up where they were now.

****  
  
  
  


When Harry and Zayn got home, they were both ready for some sleep even though the day had been relatively uneventful and it was only five. But nonetheless, Harry and Zayn climbed into their large bed and met halfway in the middle. They looked into each other’s eyes, wanting to say so much but not knowing where they should begin.

Breaking the silence, Zayn asked, “How are you feeling, Harry?”

Harry instantly turned away so he was laying on his back. Feelings were his one downfall because either his were too strong or too weak. He didn’t even know how he felt after their day. He didn’t even know what put him so off in the first place. And he definitely didn’t want to discuss it right then.

But Zayn, being how he was, wasn’t going to let Harry go to sleep with his feelings pent up so he could wake up feeling worse the next day.

****  
  


The worst part about Harry’s job was the emotional toll it could take on him. The victims themselves never bothered him much, but everything else took him down: the causing accidents, the pretending and the job itself were almost dull now. He tried to keep himself driven with his old goals, but he had changed so much since then that it never worked out for him.

Zayn rolled the opposite way of Harry and stared up at the ceiling as well. “You don’t have to talk about anything if you don’t want to. I’m just worried about you. Today was so weird for you, ya know?”

Harry’s silence continued while he rolled himself over and onto Zayn. He kissed his nose lightly, then his lips, but neither alleviated Zayn’s features of his worried expression. Harry whispered, “Please don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

Zayn’s eyebrows furrowed. “But you’re not fine now. That’s what’s worrying me. I care about your wellbeing at all times but most importantly right now. You’ve had a shit day. You need to release, Harry.”

He pulled Harry down for a kiss, something they both needed. The kiss tasted sweet and felt like two clouds brushing one another. Harry loved when Zayn started them out like this. The comfort of his body beneath him, the sensualness of their kisses, the close proximity between them, the warm breath, the scent of coffee and baked goods or cologne and the feeling of how utterly lucky they are to be able to call one another theirs.

The beauty of their life together was, overall, the carefreeness they had at home and the lust that drove them late into the nights.

Zayn’s mind raced through their years together, the laughs, the tears, and all the times they had to clean each others wounds. The desire they portrayed through their eyes and the languid, beautiful thrusts that rolled from each of their bodies.

****  
  
  


Harry pressed himself down deeper, wanting to feel Zayn with every inch of his body. He wanted to feel the dip of his collarbones, the arch of his hip, the outline his dick created in his pants; he wanted to feel his heartbeat and his breathing. It took all of his strength to take this slowly as their crotches brushed one another.

The smell of Zayn filed his noise and made him feel high as he dipped down to kiss his neck and his collarbones. Zayn sighed, loving the way Harry’s lips felt against his skin. He felt Harry begin to nip at the skin just below his ear on his right side, which was Harry’s favorite spot because he knew how Zayn reacted.

Zayn’s breathing picked up as Harry blew, licked and sucked at the same spot.

“Ah, Harry,” he moaned. Harry’s hand ghosted over Zayn’s erection, teasing him.

And then it was all gone. Harry was still there, but he was more just dead weight than anything.

Harry, who prized himself on how good he was in bed, had dozed off. Zayn knew Harry had said once or twice how relaxing he found foreplay, but he had never expected this. He wasn’t sure if he should be mad or sympathetic because here he was with a light hickey when he had a business meeting the next morning and he had an erection that clearly wasn’t going to be taken care of anytime soon. But on the other hand, Harry was getting what he needed - rest.

Zayn lightly kissed Harry’s forehead and whispered, “Sleep well, love. I’m gonna get you back for this tomorrow.” He kissed him one more time. “Just you wait.”


End file.
